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spacebarbarianweird · 3 months

Note

After such beautiful headcanons about Noble!Tav I now must ask about Noble High elf!Tav x Astarion

Did I indulge into reading about noble elven families? I absolutely did.

The Isle of Evermeet - the last true elven Kingdom in Faerun created −17,600 DR during the First Sundering. In the XIV century DR the island dissapared from Toril and many believed it was destroyed. However, the island was just moved to Feywild. In 1480 DR it returned back during the Second Sundering but it dwells in a state of coexistence between Faerun, the Feywild, and Arvandor MORE INFO

Astarion x Noble Elf!Tav

Masterlist

Headcanons

You are one of Amlaruil Moonflower's many children.

Not too close to the throne, but still the member of the highest nobility.

The wanderlust, so common for young elves, forced you to leave to see the world.

You witnessed the Spellplague and, like many others, thought the Isle was gone along with everything you knew and held dear.

None of the magic portals worked. You were a princess with no kingdom and an elf with no home.

You kept leaving, forgetting everything but your name.

You meet elves like you here and there. But you don't like talking about your royal origin.

No need and no point.

Once you meet Astarion, you can't get rid of the thought you somehow know him.

You are the same age, and there are a few million elves on the Isle but you are sure he isn't from the Isle.

But his face, his surname, and some of his mannerisms are vaguely familiar.

The thing he doesn't remember anything about his past doesn't help.

In your reverie, you search for answers in your long 250 years of life.

Having to see your cruel mother and survive the court intrigues over and over again.

Astarion is bothered by it. He feels like you breach his privacy and you promise not to try it ever again.

But you aren't self-disciplined, and intrusive thoughts drag you through your memories.

Why did Astarion's face look familiar? Who did you think he was?

In the meantime, you travel. You are two elves, you have nowhere to rush.

You help Astarion to reclaim his identity.

He isn't a vampire, he is an elf!

You help him to remember his mother tongue, the True Tongue.

You tell him about the Isle, your royal family and ancestors.

He often mocks you calling you a runaway princess.

"Well, I should be grateful to be turned into a vampire. Otherwise, I would have no chance to approach you, my dear."

"Don't be stupid, we are thiramins. No one would dare to separate us."

That brings him comfort.

Should you die earlier than him, you will reincarnate like all elven souls do.

You will return and you will remember.

You eventually realize that the Isle was returned from the Feywild but what happened to its inhabitants is unclear.

Astarion doesn't want to know anything about it - the one last true kingdom of elves? Where you are a princess? With him, a vampire?

No, absolutely not. He isn't going there.

One day, you enter the reverie and get one of the earliest memories of your life in Faerun,

An elf with long silver curls. A ranger of the deep woods.

Emerald green eyes, pale skin, a grin.

"Dalar Ancunin, at your service, princess," he says in your memories, his voice echoing through the decade.

You remember him. You finally remember him. An elf born from two-half elves, who was blessed and cursed by inheriting his ancestors' features.

"It's funny to be born like that. No one knew what to do with us. So we decided to explore the world on our own and went to Baldur's Gate."

"Us?"

At that moment, Dalar's face darkened.

"We were twins, Astarion and I. He wanted to become a magistrate so he wouldn't have to live in the poverty. And I was too bored with books and studies. We… had an argument. A really bad one. And I left. Twenty years later I decided to reconcile but when I got back I only found his grave."

"I am sorry."

"The grave was empty. My brother wasn't there. And I am still looking for him. I don't know, it's been so long… But I just can't give up on him. Again."

Dalar.

You weren't close friends but you'd been in each other's life for a decade before parting ways. Members of the same adventure guild You suddenly remember his songs and his stories and how he called himself "a bastard elf". How he could literally foster any animals or beast they met on the way.

And he had a pet drake he called Nikym. "Dagger" in Elven.

You return from the reverie and look at Astarion with shocked eyes.

Astarion doesn't want to remember. Too much pain, too much sorrow- it seems like his brain just locked memories of his youth not to let Cazador learn of Dalar.

And you start talking. You try to remember every minute you spend with your old friend. What he liked, what he hated. How you sometimes woke up because Nikym was trying to eat your hair or how Dalar could shoot arrows with a blindfold.

You need to find him. If he is alive, if didn't leave Toril to try to live among the elves.

He must be there. Maybe he settled down somewhere, maybe he started a family.

How many decades will you need to catch his track though?

And Astarion doesn't have anyone else. Dalar said they were all half-elves (except for some long-forgotten ancestors). His family is long-dead.

Once you reached for your old friends they immediately pointed out where to look for Dalar.

"Always adventurer, always a traveler."

Astarion still hesitates, but, before he manages to say "no", you find what you wanted.

"The princess Moonflower in all her runaway glory! What does a royalty do in that wild place in the deep the night?"

You try to find the right words. To explain, to prepare. But Astarion has already stepped forward, staring into his mortal copy in disbelief.

You give them time.

Before Astarion manages to say anything or run away, Dalar Ancunin grabs him and hugs him.

They are different. A mortal and undead, a ranger and a rogue.

But similar at the same time.

You are a bit jealous because you got used to having Astarion all for yourself and now you have to share him with his brother.

But you get used to it. Besides, Dalar is your old friend,though forgotten for many decades.

And the drake, Nykim, accepts you both.

"I remember" Astarion once tells you. "I finally remember everything. My childhood, my youth, my death. My brother was searching for me and I just forgot about his existence."

A decade later, you three find yourself on the seacoast of the Trackless Sea.

Time to go home.

Whatever future you hold, it's there, in the distant Isle of Evermeet.

You notice both brothers are equally anxious. It will be difficult to lie about their origin and one of them is a literal vampire.

But you are adamant - you are in your own right to bring anyone along with you.

Astarion is your true love, your thiramin.

And his brother is his only family.

Both Ancunin brothers are coming with you.

For better or for worse.

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96

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clarks-letterman · 4 months

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Wally anon new request 2: This is pretty self-explanatory. A full expansion on the reader hearing/spotting Wally jerking off in the middle of the school. I imagine it'd be more than just using his hand(s), either being that he's found a toy in somebody's gym locker or has made a makeshift fuck toy (like taking one of the field equipment dummies, cutting a hole in it, & using lube he found in the nurse's office) that he's going to town on just to add to the reader's embarrassment/attraction to him.

dummy | wally clark x male!reader

a/n — yes, I know there's a plothole LMAO uhhhh because this isn't as serious as my other fics I kind of kept it in for the sillies.. (it's just ghost physics and all) + added wally railing us at the end causee he needs the relief

words — 3.3k

summary — check the ask!

warning — smut (anal, reader receiving), cheesy dialogue, joke fic first smut second

~~~

The pitter-patter of steps with varying intensities filled the open air, along with heaving breaths and an almost pack mentality as a whistle echoed out from the opposite side of the field. You thrust your legs forward, your feet slowly sticking more and more to the ground with each step as they got harder to lift up and keep kicking. They felt heavy and warm thanks to your heart pumping blood throughout your entire body, each thump, thump, thump ringing in your ears for you to heart amidst everything else. The shortness of your own breath was entailed with everyone else’s, your steps growing slow until you were discernible from the rest of the herd as you came to a slow down. The dissonance of second-period gym class, a sound you knew all too well.

Being in the middle of this pack was like being at the core of the Earth, so you let yourself fall behind until you were sundered from fatigue. Your legs felt like they could explode with one wrong step. The eight-lane mob in front of you kept chugging, and you watched them move away from you and further down the track. You found yourself taking up two lanes of the track, both legs in a different lane. Your hands fell on your thighs, and you hunched over, feeling the gut-wrenching exasperation work its way into a stomach-twisting nightmare. A thin veil of sweat covered you in more places than one—your face, neck, the back of your shirt. It was like some giant middle finger to you from whatever fate had decided that you deserve such a demanding class this early in the morning. Although, it could be worse. It could be math, and you didn’t have that until after lunch. Bowing your head, you took a second to catch your breath and just enjoy the outdoors, which felt impossible thanks to your gym coach being the fittest yet unhealthy person you knew. Overweight, balding, and painfully short, all of the things that would keep you from playing basketball, or any sport, for that matter. These things wouldn’t bother you if he wasn’t singlehandedly responsible for your grade in this class and he didn’t hand out the participation points for cheap. No, you had to show that you were actively engaged.

Lifting your head, you prayed that he hadn’t spotted you like the way a predator spots a weak link in a group. He seemed to be watching the oncoming stampede, but your eyes drifted to something else. Off to the left of where the coach stood, on one end of the football field was a guy messing with one of the three tackle dummies attached and propped up by curved metal bars. He was too far in the distance to let your eyes register what he was doing, only that it made the three dummies shake with his movements. He towered over them, you could tell that at least, the dummies only covering up to his torso. You figured that he was just transporting them around for the football team’s afternoon practice. But, his attire seemed awfully out of place. The school dress code would never allow shorts that short—yours were down to your mid-thigh when running and almost reached your knee when you stood up straight—and a sleeveless sweat-tank was an odd choice for a day that seemed fitting for jackets. Of course, students could wear one during gym but you were working out. Whatever he was trying to do felt like a walk in the park.

Just as you were about to question it, you heard the dreaded whistle along with your name following the disruption in the air. Some could argue that the way he hollered your name was a disruption, too. The coach called you over, and you did a half-jog, half-walk over to him with a twinge of nervousness creeping into your expression when you closed the gap between him and you. He was quick to give a pop quiz with just one question written on it, “Why did you stop running laps?”

“Well, why doesn’t he have to do it?” You asked the coach in a loud voice, pointing over to the guy. He was wearing gym attire, albeit a little out of style for the decade.

Your coach turned to look in the direction you gave him. “Who?”

“That guy over there,” You said, ready to walk over or give him a clearer insight as to who you were talking about. But, there was no one there, nothing rocking the football dummies back and forth like the man had been doing. You told him defeatedly, “The one by the… blocking guys…”

He still wasn’t visible from where you were, yet you knew he was there. You knew it. The coach didn’t buy it for one second, though. “Kid, you sound like you need to go to the nurse.”

“What? She’s just gonna give me ice. That’s her solution for everything.” Crossing your arms, you mentally made a refusal of his suggestion. You weren’t about to just say no to a strict teacher, or any teacher at all, but he insisted.

“Tell her to put it in a cup of water, you’re dehydrated.”

The walk to the nurse was painful. You passed the navy blue training dummies on your way over and found no trace of him, which only made the walk until you got into the building even more embarrassing. Each step taken to get to the nurse’s office felt like pure fire rubbing against your joints and inflaming your leg muscles.

It took a minute for her to get to you since she was helping a kid who got his hand stuck in a stage prop during a theater rehearsal and needed to get it off as soon as possible. Apparently, she lost the lube she kept for emergencies like this, and resorted to breaking the prop to set him free. The main reason it took so long was that it took a week to sculpt and decorate the “cornerstone of the play,” the theater kid called it. At least the time spent dealing with that allowed you to sit back and regain some of the energy you had just spent the past half an hour in class losing. When the nurse finally could see you, she gave you some water and ice to cool you down, since you were obviously having some level of delirium from overexerting yourself. She offered some Tylenol to help with a possible headache but said to tell the coach that you had to sit out for the rest of class. For embarrassing as it was, you would do anything to be safe from the scrutiny of performing your best for one out of five classes this week.

However, she must have not been paying close attention to the time, because your walk back soaked up the rest of class and no one was there by the time you got to the track. No one that you knew, at least. Once you stepped on the track, standing right about where you were when you saw him initially, he was back on the football dummies. He hadn’t moved them an inch yet they were still teetering from whatever force he was pile-driving into them. You figured that the best thing to do would be to ask if he was okay since he must have been scared of other people. It was the only logical explanation coming to fruition in your head.

Crossing the field, your legs felt heavy. You were slow with your approach, “Uh, dude, are you okay?”

You couldn’t tell if using dude or sir would be too relaxed or too informal, so you went with the safer bet because he seems to be around your age. His hair seems to be slicked back and cut short, looking reminiscent of the same decade that his attire was from. That’s what sparked the dilemma in your mind about his age. Was he younger—older? You couldn’t tell. The gym shorts you had identified from a distance were pulled down, exposing the top part of his ass crack and lower back, and clearly wrapped around and dipped in the front as they angled down on his sides, folding in on itself.

The noises clued you in as to what he was doing. Wet, sloppy plaps fill the air as the football dummy makes almost no noise yet the sound of him smacking against it does. Specifically, his hips rocked back and forth as he gave himself distance, then pressed his body back into the dummy. Getting a better look from the side, he seemed to be fucking it about halfway up from where the navy blue leather encasing started. A hole was cut in the middle of the dummy—right between the two sixes printed on its chest. You got a better view of how long he was, and how far he had to reel himself back before slamming into the dummy.

You reached out and grabbed one of his arms holding the helmet-like shape forming the top of the dummy, “Dude, I was talking to you.”

Wally looked like he had seen a ghost. He jumped back and his cock sprung free from the poor dummy he had been using as a fucktoy. It was wet with a thick layer of lube and red from the agitation of the foam inside and stood up perfectly, the erection never softening as you talked with him. “What the hell? I’ve seen you before.”

“Well, I haven’t and you’re, uh, doing that.” You were heavy on your emphasis. “I talked about you pretty loudly and you didn’t hear me.”

“I guess it’s kind of easy to ignore people when they’re usually never talking about you. I was more than a little occupied.” He could say that again. Even if you couldn’t make out his motions, he was plowing these things so hard it would make the football team tackling them look like a sign of affection.

“Right… am I interrupting?”

“Nope, I got all the time in the world,” he said happily, placing his hands on his hips. His dick was still proudly standing and you were both confused and intrigued that he had yet to attempt to hide it in his little shorts.

“Aren’t you worried that people will see this happening?” You had to remind yourself of the fact that both you and your coach couldn’t see him. There was some kind of chicanery going on and it was impossible to just let it go, “You went into hiding earlier when I saw you do it, so what’s different now?”

“Oh,” he held the word for a few seconds, “I wasn’t hiding, I’ve been at this all morning. And I’d like to continue if you want to watch?”

You were almost too astonished to say no. Almost. But the word “no” never left your lips, you just kind of gave a partially verbal agreement and took a step back, letting him get back to doing his thing. He approached the dummy, jutting out his hips and using it as a way to let his cock stick out even farther. With one hand on the dummy’s head and another on his shaft, he pushed his way back into the slit he carved out. “So—haah—what’s your name?”

You reluctantly gave it out, and he nodded like he knew your face and name. The free hand he was using to guide his cock in was now reaching out to you, offering a handshake as he introduced himself. “Wally Clark.”

“Wait, like, the guy who died back in eighty-three?” You asked him with sudden intrigue, losing focus on his rhythmic thrusting.

He moaned out, “That’s me.”

“Holy shit, I must be going crazy. I pass by your picture in the trophy case every day.” The mental image flooded your brain. You had spent just a little too long staring at it on some days when all efforts in finding love felt hopeless, and you wished you could just Frankenstein the stunning guy in the photo back to life. Little did you know, he had also spent a fair amount of time sitting in classes you were in, watching you from afar, and learning your name through roll call. He had spent himself dry with about a million dirty thoughts about you, because what else did he have to do? No one smuggled in porn for a distraction because it had all gone digital. Maybe it was that sense of wanting between the both of you that opened something up between worlds, some kind of connection neither of you had seen before.

“Hey, woah. You’re not going crazy, but I am definitely making you red in the face.”

“Could you stop doing that?” You asked, watching him lose himself even more to the pleasure he found from fucking dense foam that doubled as a great substitute for the real thing. He would even argue that it was just as good.

“Why? It’s not like anyone will see. Unless you’re worried about getting spotted.”

“No, it’s just weird to have a conversation like this.” You had literally been talking with a ghost who was putting himself out there in ways you could never imagine doing without getting some kind of cease-and-desist letter. Of course, it was going to be weird, and even as you ventured into the realm of understanding—and the paranormal realm—you walked back so many times because he felt unreal. An ephemeral image in your mind, it had to be that. You almost expected him to disappear any moment now, to wake up from this dream in the nurse’s office just when things were getting good. Were the plastic waiting chairs really that comfy? Or were you that tired that you happened to find solace in the slightest bit of comfort?

Either way, his next actions proved to you that this wasn’t a dream. “I was gonna take turns on all three, but I can add you to the lineup?” He offered, “There’s a lot less talking involved.”

“If you want, coach.” You agreed, and in seconds, he let the dummy free from his hold. He slid his cock out—still, never going down or finding satisfaction.

“I do.” He bent down to pick up the bottle of lube lying between the metal bars that supported the three dummies. You hadn’t noticed it before, but then again, this wasn’t your reality to mess with—it was his. And, for the moment, you were crossing over into it to get fucked by a ghost.

“Lean against that one,” he pointed to the dummy on the right, yet to be graced by his cock. “He’s not worn out from me… not yet, at least.”

You did as he said, spreading your legs as if it was instinctual to do so. Just as he had left the dummy on your left, he came up behind you with the same speed. “I always knew you would listen to me…”

Wally’s hands made quick work with your shorts, pulling the elastic strings in opposite directions to undo the knot and shimmied them down until the waistband stretched around your thighs. The cheap fabric the school used to make them felt scratchy, but his hands were smooth against your ass. You could feel one or two callouses subtly forming at the ends of his fingertips from being mid-game during his death, but it only added to the sensation. You knew exactly where he was while he discovered a world of new territory to claim. He gave it a quick smack, letting you feel confident that this wasn’t a dream. On Wally’s end, he saw the red handprint quickly leave the surface of your skin because he couldn’t do much to you in his current apparitional state.

He didn’t care, though. The inability to leave any mark on you didn’t change the fact that he would be forever ingrained in your head after this. How he filled you up—how his fingers were slowly creeping to your hole in a way that only he could ever call his own—all of that is his. The next sensation to rock your world was his fingers slipping in, cold, even without the lube at the tips of his fingers. He was stretching you with no help, just the ends of his fingers. After he felt you on the inside, feeling the warmth that he knew made you human, alive, he started drizzling the lube like it was his the final topping needed to complete his favorite meal. To make sure that every bite of this meal was perfect, he slid his fingers in and out of you until he thought that it was time to dig in.

His cock, hungry for a hole that wasn’t made from inanimate objects, was raised to meet your hole. The resonating noise of a hollow bottle filled the air as he tapped out the last of the lube onto his cock, having wasted some earlier with his fist and now the dummies that came before you. Then there was a soft squelching heard as he spread it over his thick length, making sure to keep a majority of it near the top for a slicker, smoother entrance.

Wally did as he had done with the dummies, lining himself up with precision and spearheading through your tight hole. He let out a loud moan that you would have worried about if anyone else could have heard it, it was that loud. He was even louder when he bottomed out, claiming that he “almost came” in a fleeting moment of desperation. Then, his lean frame and tall figure proved to be a force to be reckoned with once he started moving.

Thankfully, these things are meant to withstand two-hundred and fifty-pound meatheads charging at them, so they wouldn’t give to this, no matter how hard Wally fucked you. The front of his hips smacked against you, making the thudding noise from hitting against the leather of the dummies sound like nothing compared to the skin-on-skin clapping. Wally only worked up his thrusts, never losing his speed once he started fucking faster than your damn heartbeat.

Eventually, you needed release, but Wally’s colder, bigger hands intervened by taking yours into his, “Don’t touch yourself, too much of a mess, dude.”

You wanted to respond, to say that you’ll do whatever he wants, even depriving yourself of relief. But you couldn’t; the words didn’t form and you could barely keep your general composure against the dummy. You had gone cockdumb, unable to speak with how delirious he made you with his massive dick. You felt exhausted as if you had run a million laps, which you did on the regular in Wally’s head. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, even now that you were in the palm of his hand. In his neediness, he came, spraying himself inside you and watching it leak down the inches he hadn’t packed inside you. He pulled out and watched it disappear seconds after, but his desires felt at bay for once.

The pain and confusion quickly wore off and you were back to your good old wits, shaking your head to try and re-orient yourself with the world. It was like he had knocked you off balance, pounding into you so hard that he made you go cross-eyed. Wally finally tucked himself away and pulled up his shorts, coming to your side to help you stand. “You good?”

In combination with running for as long as you did and getting fucked, you could barely stand. All of that pain felt real. “I don’t think I can walk.”

#wally clark x reader #wally clark x you #wally clark #wally clark x male reader #milo manheim x male reader #milo mannheim #milo manheim #milo manheim x reader #x reader #x male reader #fanfic #gay #milo manheim x you #x you

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sagaduwyrm · 5 months

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Infinite Realms World-building

So I have a lot of thoughts over why their aren't that many ghosts in the Ghost Zone/Infinite Realms and how other afterlives fit into the situation so here.

The Infinite Realms aren't an afterlife. They're not a place any mortal soul is supposed to reach. They're the lining between afterlives, the wall holding them apart, the cradle holding all those places souls are meant to go. The Infinite Realms aren't anything, just a no man's worthless land.

The Infinite Realms weren't anything.

But. Picture this.

You are dead.You are dead you are dead you are deadyou aredeadyouaredead

It hurt. It was the worst thing you've ever felt, that moment when the bindings between your mortal body and your immortal soul were sundered beyond all recovery. You're disoriented and in pain and crying, weeping wails echoing across the metaphysical expanse.

But then a hand reaches out to you.

Hands, really.

They whisper in your ear. Come home, one says, offering gentle, glittering love. You've earned this, screams another like it’s a battle-cry. A dozen voices like hellfire and damnation offer atonement, if that's what you seek, although the punishment they offer varies. One voice that is not a voice but is the void offers the rest of non-existence, the creak of a wheel suggests reincarnation.

These gods and demons and spirits and entities want you, is the thing. Their grip is like chains around your ankles, dragging you down, and you have to choose, you hAVe To cHooSE, or It Will Be Chosen For You.

And this is what's supposed to happen, isn't it? The next step. Your eternal rest. Getting to pick is a greater mercy than a little mortal deserves, even.

But.

But…

You aren't a little mortal. You refuse to be.

You are the woman who revolutionized school lunches.

You are the greatest hunter in the world.

You are Romeo and Juliet, except they were a tragedy and you are not because you can bet your ass you went out laughing.

You are the world's next rock-star whose voice no one ever got to hear.

You are a man who loves boxes.

You are a clever wish-granter, the greatest magician in the world..

You are a Queen with people to protect.

You are the master of technology.

You are a boy who died too soon, too young, and hell, you should give up, but you never got to see the stars. You never got to see the stars, or what your sister looks like graduating from college, or how your friends look when they change the world. You'll never know if you'll be an uncle, if you'll have your dad's shoulders or your mom's wiry strength, what it feels like to kiss someone, whether or not Dash will ever get that stick his ass and become a decent person again. No one will ever read your paper on the genesis of stars, or fly to Pluto in a rocket ship you designed, or welcome you home after you've fulfilled your life's dream and gone to space.

It's a goddamn tragedy is what it is.

And dying hurt, so bad you're not sure if you'll ever be the same. But. All your chains are broken now. Your soul is free, in a way that it's never quite been before. You are a butterfly, broken free from your cocoon.

And they want to chain you.

They whisper so sweetly, so gently in your ear, even as they tear you apart in a child's game of tug-of-war. You have to choose.

Fuck that.

Fuck that. Dying hurts but it also freed all the potential of your beautiful, brilliant soul, and you aren't going back. Maybe you’re Icarus, flying too close to the sun, but you have wings now, and you won't let them be pinned.

You take the plunge. Through brimstone, through the river with its eternal ferry, through light and dark and a thousand different afterlives that want you like they have any damned right to your soul.

You fly, and you aren't sure if you're running forward or fleeing, but you fly. And it takes forever, a century and a day that lasts less than the beat of a heart, but then you burst free of all those grasping hands and you see green.

The green is infinite and it's empty. But it's free. It's beautiful and bright and you breathe it in, this base stuff of reality, this entropy in motion, and your soul comes to life. You aren't bound anymore, not by the base practicalities of your body, not by the laws and hunger of the gods, not by anything but your own willpower and trust in yourself.

Once the Infinite Realms were empty, once they were nothing. Now there are ghosts singing their exultant freedom. With them they bring ideas and movement and life, and the eddies they stir become whole new beings, spirits that never lived as anything other than what they are. These empty currents now hold whole worlds, ghosts and spirits and monsters.

And one day some strange being comes and tries to take your freedom and he calls himself Pariah Dark. Maybe he was a determined mortal just like you, maybe he was a demon, something sent by the gods to punish you for daring to be more, but it doesn't matter. Regardless of how hard he tries, how many lands his armies invade, how deep he digs his clawed hands in, it doesn't matter.

No one can conquer Infinity.

And then the Ancients awake. Even in a realm of equals, there are still those who are more. And what is the point of power if you can't protect your fellows?

So they shut him away, this fool who doesn't care for the freedom the Infinite offers, put him in a sleep so deep even his dreams can't disturb others. And when he wakes up there is a boy, small and young, but with more determination in his body than most could dare claim, and the tyrant who steals freedom is sent straight back to sleep.

The Infinite Realms need no King, but this boy is small and clever and kind, and when two people war, he is the first to come and mediate, the first to shove himself between their fury and make them remember themselves. They don't need a King, but the Infinite Realms are so big, with so many people, and they wouldn't mind a Speaker. Someone to connect them all, regardless of how far they lay apart.

And this boy with stars in his eyes and gentle hands grumbles, but he loves the Infinite as much as they love him, and he's almost meant for this, existing between Ancient and New, Living and Dead. They would never chain him, but he was always meant to explore, and who wouldn't want to meet and see and know everything?

The Infinite Realms are green and free and beautiful, and no god can ever change that.

#fandom #danny phantom #fandom stuff #danny fenton #world building #infinite realms #ghost zone #my writing

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spacesnaill · 10 months

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the sundering. do you ever think how some souls were scarred by the sundering and the final days so much that a mere sight of a meteor shower will awaken echo in their shards? i sure do :')

#final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv #ff14 #hydaelyn #venat #ffxiv venat #ff14 venat #tisiphone #digital #snez art

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tishinada · 9 days

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Of all the Scions, I feel like Estinien most likely has a soul shard of someone who was Azem's buddy back in the day. I mean, he shows no particular sign of the Echo itself, but my sense is that there are a lot of people who possibly have a sundered soul shard but not the Echo, especially if there were other races on the star besides the ancients themselves. In the Leviathan quest chain in post-ARR, we see a Sahagin with the Echo, after all.

But I don't think the Echo is what matters in Estinien's case. We know that Azem's unique ability was to be able to call the person or people to their side who could provide exactly the help needed at the exact moment needed during any crisis, and Estinien demonstrated a particularly uncanny ability to show up exactly when needed throughout Stormblood. He appeared out of nowhere to destroy a superweapon aimed at the rebellion forces during the fight for Ala Mhigo. And he appeared during the fight with Zenos when the Crystal Exarch threw the WoL into an extremely ill-timed (or actually, judging from the trailer, an extremely well-timed) Echo vision & held off Zenos long enough to escape with the WoL's unconscious body. I'd even argue that his work with Gaius to investigate Black Rose might have been a subtle manifestation of Azem's ability.

I mean, all of the scions demonstrate remarkable timing at times, but their appearance is rarely out of the blue. We almost always know they're in the vicinity, etc. But Estinien literally showed up out of nowhere with no expectation of him being anywhere in the vicinity to do exactly what was needed at exactly the right moment. And then vanished again. Post-EW, he shows up at just the right moment to buy a map that sets off a remarkable chain of events... The only really logical explanation is Azem lol.

BTW, I have to admire the way they wrote in a completely logical reason for some of the unlikely events like Estinien appearing in Ala Mhigo and driving a lance through a superweapon about to fire on the WoL & rebel forces. The Azem effect explains so much, right up to the unsundered Ascians often setting themselves up for failure. However bitter they might be about Azem's choice during the Final Days, Azem was still a dear friend and they still respond to that call, I think.

#ffxiv #endwalker spoilers #estinien wyrmblood #estinien x azem/wol #azem

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witchofhimring · 2 months

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To you who is lost

Chapter 1: Duty is the death of love

Chapter synopsis: Your husband leaves for despair and death. Left behinde, you are left at the mercy of others.

Warnings: Angst, abandonment, crying, pregnancy

Note: Usually I save notes for the end but this time I will also put some at the beginning. I am using their Quenya names (ex. Maedhros is called Maitimo).

Emmeril, Airin and llë are my OC's

You would lament thereafter for the lack of foresight. The wise in Arda would mourn their kindred, who had stepped out of bliss and into woe. Nerdanel, Amarië, Anairë, these great women of the Blessed Realm were linked in sorrow to those left behind. You joined this tragic assembly, united in regret. Days would waste away as you asked " What was there to be done?". Anguishing over every time you could have forestalled these harrowing events.

It had been a storm, slowly strengthening until its power was too great to prevail. Deceived, one and all had been taken in. Melkor's repentance had seemed so genuine. Save Tulkas and Curufinwe none had heeded any notion of trickery. Now the dark Vala's laughter rang in Angamando, echoing off the stone walls. In your own halls, you sighed. Brought so low you were a specter of the beautiful young elf maiden whose laughter had lit up Tirion. These days were dark with the Alduya felled.

"Will you come to bed?" Amarië, whose suffering was as great as yours, came forward. Together they cast their gazes to the darkness beyond. All of Arda had been plunged into an impenetrable shadow. Amarië's light was much dimmed, her golden hair hanging forlornly. She had always been pale and thin but her boundless joy had given her strength which many envied. They need envy no longer. Findaráto had sworn to return and Amarië held him to it. She was bound to him, although not formally, and believed he would return. For a time Amarië would remain before departing. She would dwell in her home and wait for Findaráto.

You had been gifted no such reassurance. Cast off, Maitimo had spurned every vow he made. Bitter words were exchanged, things that could not be unsaid. Unlike Amarië's stalwart serenity, you had wept. Your marriage had been waning for some time now. When Curufinwe stormed into exile you followed to Formenos. In Formenos you would lose your husband.

The laws of the Eldar commanded that husband and wife be one in all things. Never had you any cause to doubt these customs. Naturally, a husband and wife must cleave together. Growing up in a big, tightly-knit family, a certain worldview had been formed. There was never any doubt that if you married your husband would always protect you. And how could you not? Your father had always been so devoted to your mother, his desire to make her happy endless.

Your worldview had been, to a degree, changed when you married Maitimo. The house of Finwe had been in turmoil for quite some time. Since Finwe cemented his union Indis despite the protests of his son Feanaro, his progeny had torn at one another. Though to Nolofinwe's credit, the war was pitifully one-sided. Even those who had never encountered either prince heard of the brotherly animosity. A pungent cloud of this great house, many feared for the day a storm would break. Coming from a close family this was something of an anomaly. Your father had quarreled with his brothers, but nothing could sunder their bond. Your mother had her gripes with her sisters, but their love always brought them together again. Being the eldest of your family you had the unenviable job of keeping rambunctious youngers siblings in line. However no matter what troubles came your, love and affection remained. Perhaps this made the end inevitable.

You begged him not to leave that day. The death of High King Finwë plunged all of Arda into grief. Sickening amounts of blood were saturated into the ground. From there after that very spot was stained by Melkor's vile deed. The smell sent your head reeling and burning bile to bubble. You had never seen a dead body before and abhorred the slaughter of animals. They might think you weak for it, but you knew this sight would curdle the blood of even the most austere of elves. Wails of despair took the place of joy. The light had faded and everything became dark. If only it had stopped there, oh by Eru how you wished this was the worst.

It all started on a day filled with joy. Manwë had summoned the Houses Fingolfin and Curufinwë, ordering peace between the two families. Brother took brother in hand and promised peace and friendship. Though how sincere Curufinwë was remained unknown. Many times you had witnessed Curufinwë rage over his younger brother. He howled over the "spawn of Indis" and cursed him. Such festering resentment could not be swept aside by simple sweet words. "I know we should be glad. But I can not help feeling dread." Maitimo simply took your hand in his. "I assure you that nothing bad will happen." His smile reassured you. Oh how wrong he was. When the darkness fell confusion and fear reigned. Finwë was dead, the Silmarills stolen and half of the Edain of Valinor gone. The only respite was Arafinwë returning to take leadership.

All the lights went out. Melkor had drained the trees of all their light, and from there he fled. But there was no running from the darkness. Warmth and light were replaced by darkness and dread. Wails of the bereft took the place of laughter. You who had once been so full of joy had only despair for company. Things had been far from perfect even before the oath. When Curufinwë had been exiled your husband went with him. Of course, you understood his duty as the eldest son. But it didn't make the move from Tirion to Formenos. That day you had to leave behind all those you loved. Try as you might to sway Maitimo to stay, it worked to no avail. In those days you would have done anything for him, and so where he went you followed. You tried not to complain. Even when Curufinwë's temper became unbearable, or your friends stopped sending letters. You could not blame them, living in the court of temporary King Nolofinwë and keeping in touch with you was risky. At least your family was supportive. Your younger sisters and brothers But even in those cold days you still would never have thought Maitimo would leave you. The years had been trying, but he still cared for you in those days. Years later in the dead of night, as you lay awake, you wondered if every "I love you" had been a lie.

"Please, if you have ever loved me you would stay." He did not meet your eyes. He just looked back to the army assembling in the courtyard below. "Have I not followed you all these years? What could I have done for you to cast me aside!" You seized his arm. Gently he pried you off him. "Y/n, you must understand that I have to go. Of course you may follow me-" "I have done nothing but follow you! Maitimo this is suicide!" It was at this point your father in law chose to appear, ascending the steps in a storm of fury. "If you do not choose to follow your husband, as you are sworn to do, then you are no wife!" Temperamental, yes, but now there was the flame of madness dancing in his eyes. Curufinwë had taken leave of his senses. "My vows said that I would follow him as my conscious dictates! As your wife has stayed in Valinor so shall I." The comment was poorly timed. Anger beat so furiously in your chest that you thought not of the consequences. With a roar of unbridled fury, Curufinwë drew his sword. Horrified, both you and Maitimo stepped back. The tip was right at your neck, an inch further would slice the flesh. "Depart, faithless wretch! And do not let me find you lurking in these hall again lest I strike you dead!" Maitimo drew you away and behind him. "You will cease your insults of my wife." You stared up at him in awe. Here he was standing up to his father, possibly the greatest of the Noldor. You had thought at that moment Maitimo had seen sense. He led you off to a room, away from his father and the chaos below.

"Maitimo!" You flung your arms around his shoulders. An elated kiss was placed on his forehead. But his eyes were sad with what you later realized was guilt. Gently he pried you off of him. He was gentle but his actions indicated he wanted to put distance between you and himself. "Do-?" You were unable to finish. Maitimo closed his eyes and whispered something so quietly under his breath you almost missed it. Almost. "Please." "Maitimo?" Your temporary relief was dashed as quickly as it came. "Y/n, I must follow my father." One could hear a pin drop. Your world had been torn apart, fractured almost beyond repair. "My Lord-Maitimo! You must not!" Your body was shaking, horror gripping you like a vice. Your legs seemed unable to hold themselves, such was the agony you felt at that moment. Falling to your knees, you started to beg.

"Husband, if you have any love for me then-" Suddenly Maitimo's could not even meet your eye. "You will not sway me Y/n." His voice was hard, cold, a tone he had recently adopted and that reared its head more and more frequently. You could not believe what you were hearing. Your husband seemed to disregard the bond between man and wife, that they must always stay side by side. And here he was abandoning you at your hour of need. You were scared. Finwë was dead and the rest were in self imposed-exile. The journey ahead scared you. To leave the safe haven of Valinor was suicide. You could understand avenging the King, you had great love and respect for him. And as King he must be avenged. But this was beyond simple revenge. This very act would tear apart the house of Finwë, and all of Valinor. Your family. Curufinwë's heart had turned dark and following him to this end. And there was another, more overriding reason. A shaking hand went to your stomach.

It could be a lie to say that everything had been perfect before the darkening. Hard to admit, but your presence in the family was not welcomed by everyone. Curufinwë and his son who shared the same name looked upon you with disdain. You were to head-in-the-clouds for them to ever like. You tried, only to end in ridicule and failure. The escalation was partly your fault, afraid of causing trouble Maitimo was never told. Looking back, telling Maitimo might have been wiser. Alas, you did not. This was not to say the rest were unkind. Never had there been a great closeness between Tyelkormo, Carinstir and yourself, there was also never ill blood either. Though you were better acquainted with the latter's wife, Ilë. Macalaurë had always been kind but rather unapproachable, him being so proud. You supposed that was what Emmeril liked about him. The twins you were the closest to, out of the lot, Telvo and Pityo. His cousins hailing from the house of Nolofinwë you held a greater preference for. Save Turokáno who thought you rather silly.

There lay a great enmity between the houses Curufinwë and Nolofinwë. Or rather, Curufinwë held a deep mistrust and dislike of his younger brother. The ill sentiment had spread like a poison to all his kin, even the children. During the exile in Formenos you were forced to meet Findecáno and his younger sister, at times with Arakáno. Those years had been hard, especially for those such as Turkafinwë and Maitimo who forged deep bonds with their kin. Curufinwë the younger missed Írissë, despite his attempts to hide it. Those years in Formenos had been horribly lonely, bereft of company. With a family far away and friends forced to stay in Tirion company was limited. Only two friends had accompanied you. But denied company they soon started to despair. Despite what it cost you have them leave. Many tears had been shed that day. The resentment between the various members of Curufinwë started to devour the residents. Anger brewed, bitterness ensued.

"And Indis's brood wander those halls, our halls! What right... what claim does the House of Indis have to my father's throne! The throne of my forefathers!" Around Curufinwë's table everyone sat, save Ilë who pleaded exhaustion. The rest of you were not spared Curufinwë's rage. Sitting next to Maitimo your hands shook, his hand on your knee. The twins sat closest to their father, though Telufinwë not leaning in as close. Turkafinwë's seemed unusually thoughtful, for such a brash elf. Curufinwë the younger's face was obscured from shadow, his silent wife beside him. Morifinwë was leaning in towards Curufinwë with a red flush crawling up his face. Kanafinwë and Emmeril sat on the sidelines, observers of Curufinwë's rant. You would give anything to leave this table.

"What of our Uncle Arafinwë?" Maitimo was far too fond of his half-uncles for Curufinwë's liking. You could see his thin pale lips tighten. His dark blue eyes, bloodshot, narrowed in on Maitimo. "He is his mother's son." Curufinwë's stance was clear. Your thoughts went to Amarië who you had not seen in years. Last you heard Findaráto had pledged to marry her. Wondering if Curufinwë would allow you to attend their wedding, you looked outside. Formenos was cut off from the rest of Valinor. Held up in these mountains it was hard to see anything else. It only served to make you feel more nervous.

"Though, I do wonder if not everyone is paying attention." Curufinwë's tone made it seem he was scolding a child. Except it was you. "My apologies." Quickly covering your mistake, you sat there rigidly. "My wife meant no offense." Maitimo was swift to defend. Curufinwë looked ready to say more but chose to abstain. All you could do was stare at your lap, numb with anxiety.

Maitimo had changed. The bleakness and chill of Formenos had worn on everyone. Exhaustion had settled over the residents like a heavyweight. Loneliness became a constant companion, stalking you like a specter. In the beginning, it was not so bad. You spent time making this place a home. A small garden was built in the courtyard with help from Maitimo. Carefully you tended to the delicate petals, their white petals reflecting light. He would wind them in your hair, cascading down in a waterfall of flowers. They spent much of their time holed up inside their room. It became a safe haven, a world that separated themselves from all the torments outside. Light blue curtains adorned the windows, you had elected for a more simple style. Windows were left open a crack letting fresh air in. At times like these you could forget about everything.

The years passed and the bond between husband and wife started to crumble. A great toll was upheaving this family. Twelve years was but the link of an eyes to elves. For this family however, it dragged on. Every moment served to increase Curufinwë's rage and desire to avenge himself burned within. Like a disease it spread, its symptoms laying low the spirits of his heirs. Maitimo became sullen and the fire within seemed to flicker. The letters hailing from Tirion, where his beloved cousin Findecáno resided, remained unopened for days. When Maitimo finally did dare to gaze upon the contents they were for him only. Afterwards Maitimo would grow sullen once more and would disappear. Behind his back, although it brought guilt, you read its contents. It was the words of a cousin who missed his friend. He talked of times past and expressed joy in those to come. "I hope for further joy, so that all ill will become forgotten." He had written. Letters arrived from your sister as well. Airin was the closest in age to you, being only a few years your junior. Residing in the court of Anairë, Airin would provide information. King Nolofinwë ruled wisely and was much loved. Such tidings brought you no joy. Eru knew what Curufinwë might say. She was not the only one to bring information, Findecáno wrote to you as well, with affection that did little to curb a growing fear. He wished you well, that the days bring peace, but those words soothed not. There lingered an underlying anxiety to his words. Try as he might to cover it up.

"My dear daughter, we are well. But it would truly warm our hearts to know you too are well. Do not forget that all of us (yes, all of us) miss you dreadfully" Those letters remained in a safe wooden box. Sometimes you would read them when lonely. Even your brothers, who were a great many years younger, had written. Sadly, letters were no substitute for true company. Ilë, wife of Carnistir, was a good friend. But as time dragged on Ilë retreated and clung to her husband. Less and less she patrolled the halls, staying with her husband in solitude. Making friends with the other elf maidens, there was still a poignant loneliness. All they did was remind you of those left behind.

"It is merely your father's words, my love. Your uncle would never harm any of us." Your husband's anguish hurt you in turn. As a wife it was agonizing to know his pain and yet have no balm to heal the wound. Another one of Findecáno's letters lay forlornly on the bedside. Instead of bringing joy they served to torment. Maitimo was slumped against his chair by the windows. His bright blue eyes were focused on the mountains beyond. You stood beside him, fingers running through his red hair. For a while you said nothing. Gently you stroked his cheek which was unusually sallow. Leaning forward you kissed the cheek. Slightly, he leaned into your affection. "I know you will do what is right." Had those words strengthened him, or heaped on yet greater pressure onto Maitimo.

Everything changed when that great host left Valinor. You were left alone and exposed with no one to protect you. Everyone was either gone or wanted nothing to do with you. Maitimo had ordered those of his followers who stayed behind to protect you. But would they be able to? And could you, in good conscience, place those who were under your care into great danger? Thank Eru Arafinwë took pity on your condition. You had been barricaded in Formenos for fear when the youngest son of Finwë and his host came upon the fortress. To your surprise, he brought along Indis and Nerdanel. Despite your disgrace, they brought you with them to Tirion.

You sat on a bench with an outlook to the garden below. Despite its glamorous beauty, it brought you no joy. There was no light for the Two Trees had been utterly drained. It felt like divine providence, the trees set and your love as gone. Now it was dark as the hole in your heart. "Y/n, dear, you should no linger in the cold for so long. "Nerdanel stepped out onto the outlook. " Is it dinner already?" You drew your cloak tighter around yourself. Instinctively your hands cradled your ever expanding belly. "Yes. And Indis has prepared your favourite." At one times these temptations would have been rather tempting. But no food could fill you. Not now. "If not yourself then at least for him." "You are so certain?" Coming from Nerdanel the Wise the idea she might already know was not preposterous. Relenting, you got up. The baby was all you had left.

"And are we to forget that this woman chose to go into exile, against all common sense and decency." It was as you expected. Even with the new Lord of the Noldor beside you. It was Arafinwë's first council as leader (would that make him King now?) in the great halls. You remembered that last time you had been here. How Curufinwë unsheathed his sword and pointed it at his own brother. You recalled the horror and revulsion on the audience's face, and now all their eyes were on you. Every important lord and lady of Valinor were judging you. It hurt to know that some of them had once been your friends. Perhaps everything had been a lie. Your husband despised you and the rest of Valinor bore mistrusted.

"You forget, My Lord, that as a Princess and member of her lord husband's household, she was bound to follow him to whatever ends. It was only when it all became too much did Y/n depart from her husband. Her moral convictions won out, and despite their fëas being one she forsook him." Arafinwe's voice held a steely edge you had not yet heard before. The youngest son of Finwë was often misconceived as being shy, timid even. This was a misconception, he was simply quiet. Never should one misconstrue kindness for complacency. But one should never be complacent with the belief that silence means stupidity. Arafinwë stood up, white robes billowing behind him. You felt Nerdanel place a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Have we fallen so far that we would attack a lonely woman? If we are to proceed with revenge in this matter, are we truly worthy to live amongst the Vala and Maia?' Some had the grace to look ashamed. Despite this, there were still some who had misgivings.

"My Lord, if I may speak." Lady Nimlothel served the house of Nolofinwë, more specifically it was his Lady wife she owed her allegiance to. With an elegant stride, she took the floor. "You may." Arafinwë answered, although his eyes looked wary. "The Lady Y/n is not responsible for her husband's ill deeds. Although I would like to add that Lady Nerdanel never fled into exile, a most wise decision. I suggest that the Lady Y/n retire, at least for a time. It would be unwise to allow such a remnant of Curufinwë's treachery to remain here." You felt so cold, so alone. They might not lock you up, but exile was little better. You would hide away, a forgotten remnant in a far off castle. An embarrassing chapter of Arda's history. Arafinwë sat down, troubled. "This council is dismissed. We shall convey at morning tomorrow."

"We may reside by my parent's hearth. They extend this offer to you too." Emmeril had bolted the chest shut. Sitting on a bed you watched Makalaurë's wife hastening departure. She along with Airin, wife of Curufinwë the Younger (your husband's brother) remained in Valinor. Ilë alone had departed, swearing to follow her husband Morifinwë, to whatever end. You prayed to Eru she would be well. Airin had long since departed. Saddened over the loss of husband and son she departed, destination unknown.

"My Lady, is that all?" One of Emmeril's handmaidens entered. "Take these out to the yard, then we depart." Once the handmaiden departed Emmeril turned to you. "What do you hope to accomplish by staying?" The bond between Emmeril and yourself had never been great. It was not personal dislike so much as never truly understanding one another. Emmeril was stern and hard, chafing against your soft and easy nature. But she had never been cruel or given you reason for mistrust. Emmeril's reasoning was wise in this matter. Leaving Tirion could allow you to start anew. You might have done so if it were not for the babe that dwelt within you. What sort of life would your child have? A permanent exile for the rest of their days? Could you even call yourself a mother while condemning a child to such a fate? Emmeril may think you a fool, and perhaps she was right to think so. But you would not reveal this secret to her. Now was not the time and frankly you were not ready.

Emmeril did not stay long, but departed for her family's home. You watched her go until the last of her horses were over the hill. The room suddenly felt colder, more forlorn. A choked sigh bordering on sobs left your mouth. At times like these you would have walked in the garden with Ilë. Only it was pitch black out and Ilë was gone. A soft knock at your door alerted you. Amarië swept in, pink silk trailing behind. "Y/n, Nerdanel wishes to give council." Rising up you followed Amarië. The hallway was obscured with shadows, torches providing ailing light. Even with windows barred shut you could still feel a draft. Even Amarië seemed to feel it, drawing her robe tighter. Every step echoed in these silent halls. Most had either fled Tirion or barricaded themselves in their rooms. Only guards remained patrolling the halls.

Nerdanel had taken quarters next to Queen Indis. Was Indis even still queen? Suspiciously guards regarded your presence. "Lady Nerdanel had sent for Lady Y/n. Queen Indis is aware." They let you in with a look of reluctance on their faces. The swords on their sides glimmered in the torchlight. Only a short time ago none dared to disregard the Valar's ordinance. Now none dared leave their rooms without protection. Such were these sad times. Nerdanel bore her usual attire, baggy brown pants and a white shirt. Her hair, Nerdanel had her back turn to you, was tied in a loose braid. Rubble and tools lay scattered. When Amarië cleared her throat Nerdanel seemed to finally take notice. "Lady Amarië, thank you." Amarië curtsied and made to leave. "Hold-" "I must depart. Lady Nerdanel wishes to speak to you in private." Now it was just Nerdanel and you. Nerdanel lightly kicked a hammer out of the way and picked up a tray. You smelt citrus and a hint of cinnamon. Sitting down you watched Nerdanel pour a cup of tea. "Care for some?" You nodded. You had the feeling this conversation was not simple idle chat.

Nerdanel did not beat around the bush. After a sip, her grey eyes focused on you. The look was not critical, but the one she adopted when an important topic was at hand. "I heard Emmeril offered you a place at her family home. Why did you not go?" She was not being critical, just inquiring. "I have never been close to Emmeril. It would be an intrusion on my part." Nerdanel poured another cup. "Will you remain here indefinitely?" "Nerdanel I do not know what to do. I am lost. In leaving I condemn myself and the baby to exile. In staying ill may come too, for those that support the Houses of Nolofinwë and Arafinwë have no love of Curufinwë's kin." Nerdanel reached out calloused hands, worn by years of her craft. Your own was not so smooth, for years of gardening had hardened the skin. "Fate may be kinder to you. Our king wishes to provide what help he can." The attempt was well made, yet still you remained unsettled. "My fate is solely in the hands of others. If I stay then it is another exile. I banish my freedom. Perhaps I should leave and lessen others' hold on me." Nerdanel's gaze went to your belly. If one was unaware they would not know. But soon it would swell and then what would happen then? Your family would be harboring a potential heir. Arafinwë was good and wise, but the actions others you must look to. Would they see the baby as a contender? If you stayed at court then an alliance could be built and no one could accuse you of hiding.

"Do what you think is best for yourself and the baby Y/n. But do not forget, make sure you stand on your own feet."

Note: This story has been in my drafts since September and was originally meant to be a one shot. A story surrounding the lives of those who stayed in Valinor is something I have been interested in for a while now. I am unsure how long this story will be. I will also be using the Quenya pronunciation for everyone's names unless canonically one is not provided. All the sons of Feanor use their mother-name except for Curufin.

While I use Jodie Comers face in the gifs and aesthetics for this story it is not meant to be a face claim. I simply like to use a certain character/acter's face in each series.

My OC's (the unnamed wives of the sons of Feanor) are my stand ins for the wives in every fanfic going forward. This is unless I write an x-reader involving one of the three married sons. In that case I will simply write them out. But going forward in this story and others they will exist. I intend to make character profiles for them at some point.

If you want to be added to the taglist please let me know!

#the silmarillion x reader #silmarillion x reader #the silm #the silmarillion #silmarillion #to you who is lost #maedhros #maglor #celegorm #celegorm x aredhel #feanor x nerdanel #fingolfin x anaire #finrod x amarie #finarfin x earwen #finarfin #nerdanel #maitimo x reader #maedhros x reader

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bestworstcase · 1 month

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@cryptidblues tumblr Ate this ask for some reason so copying text from the email notif

See I’ve always thought that the mechanism through which cinder stole the maiden powers (bug) from Amber made her a Grimm hybrid. And THATS why Ruby’s silver eyes worked on her at the top of beacon tower; regardless of the presence of the wvyern. Because underneath her skin she was Grimm (and still fully human). “Your newfound strength brings with it a crippling weakness”/“You said the light only reacts to Grimm but…it reacted to Cinder”/“perhaps there was something that you just weren’t seeing?” Leading from that the implicit threat of “Oz can’t defeat [Salem]”/“but maybe someone else can?” to Salem is not that Salem could be eradicated by silver eyes (go poof like other Grimm) but rather be put back in The Tower by silver eyes. By being turned to stone. Still immortal but frozen. Trapped. Her Freedom completely sundered. “You thought there was no greater punishment we could bestow upon you?”/“Your light comes from his brother”/“The god of light…his eyes”. There’s an assumption that Salem is invulnerable, no personal skin in the game, “she’ll come back”, nothing effects her, nothing sticks; but her running this risk of being petrified by silver eyes gives depth and high stakes to any interaction she has with Ruby face to face (and her possible complex relationship to a hypothetical favorite silver eyed lieutenant). ᓚᘏᗢ

the reason i Don’t believe the grimm beetle made cinder vulnerable to the glare atop beacon tower is that ruby hits her with a second full-blown glare in atlas towards the end of v7 and—even though cinder by that point has a whole grimm arm—cinder flies away from that one unscathed. either:

a) the implication salem makes in v5 that cinder can learn to resist the glare is true,

b) there is an additional, unknown but more important factor besides “grimm” involved here, or

c) both.

i think the answer is probably both, although more b than a. (maria sees the flash coming from the god of light’s eyes and concludes this power came from him; but she couldn’t see that ruby’s eyes were silver until she saw their light go off, and she missed those two silver-eyed children of ozma’s. “maybe there’s something you’re not seeing” is true of her, too)

(the silver light evokes the pure white of the void between realms, where the dead travel from life to death and the souls of the living and the dead can meet in between. ozma passes through this liminal space every time he dies and reincarnates, and his children with a mortal woman have silver eyes. after ruby witnesses pyrrha’s death and her light erupts, the hand cinder used to kill pyrrha is destroyed and ruby spends months hearing echoes of pyrrha’s final words—which she wasn’t there to see—haunting her dreams. there are butterflies, classic symbols of reincarnation and in certain cultures historically identified as psychopomps, all over the scene where maria discusses her theory. maria is also philosophically wrong in her conception of creation/life as “enemies” of destruction; destruction feedslife and exists in balance with creation, and the glare itself is definitionally destructive. silver eyes have something to do with death.)

the kids at least, per nora and “maybe someone else can [destroy salem]?” do seem to be thinking in terms of ruby’s eyes being the silver bullet that can stop salem if not destroy her outright, and ruby has the wyvern example to look to to be thinking about trapping salem in stone forever. but then the leviathan is there to raise the possibility that petrification is not necessarily forever, and salem herself seems unconcerned when ruby’s eyes start to flash in ironwood’s office. plus again the implication salem makes that the glare can be resisted: if that is something she taught cinder to do, it’s something salem must be able to do too.

i do think the glare is probably capable of hurting her somehow—i have my own specific headcanons as to how for Fic Purposes but in terms of textual speculation, what happens if you take a grimm woman who can’t die and blast her with the grimm-killing light from the threshold between life and death? it sounds painful, if nothing else.

but if the leviathan could break free after being petrified, and salem is both immortal and human and thus able to, like cinder in v7, resist the glare in some way, i think being turned to stone or encased in stone is not likely to slow her down for very long. although i can’t imagine she would enjoy the experience.

the other factor to consider is that—well, quite a lot of the fandom assumes the point of silver eyes is to “purify” the grimm out of people, for example saving cinder from her grimm arm, and on the basis of maria’s theory that is an easy extrapolation to make; which is to say, after the experience in the ever after, i wouldn’t be surprised if the idea of “purge the grimm out of salem to make her herself again?” was broached on the heroes side. the reality though is that being grimm is not what’s wrong with salem and becoming grimm is something she chose, or at least accepted as a possible consequence of what she attempted to do when she jumped into the pool of grimm, and using silver eyes to try to Force Her to go backwards is probably not a good idea and not something that will work. she is change incarnate—that’s what destruction means.

so there is a thematic challenge here that might be explored; seen through the lens of maria’s theory, silver eyes are anti-change (preservation) and therefore anti-theme (destruction is part of life, not the enemy of life) so her theory is incomplete and the most obvious way to fill in the gaps and arrive at the whole truth is to test the glare against salem herself, because she is change.

and because rwby is so thematically driven i’d anticipate this happening concurrently with salem turning in a new direction, which intersects in very interesting ways with what is being set up vis-a-vis needing cinder to open the vaults vs wanting cinder to be alive, safe, and free. (i think the momentum there is toward salem being forced to choose between getting the crown and protecting cinder, and she’ll sacrifice the crown for cinder’s sake; the… possibility of silver eyes being involved in that scenario is obvious.)

#silver eyes my windmill.#there’s also details like jaune—no one else #just jaune—flinching when ruby’s eyes go at haven #you know. the kid with the death wish. very interesting

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lightparty-fullparty · 2 months

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Can't possibly be me Zenosposting again - what is this a day ending in Y?

Anyway, I've been thinking about the murder boy again. This has mostly spawned from my replaying of the Stormblood patches and seeing Amnesiac Yotsuyu, which sparked a bit of a Nature vs Nuture debate between me and my friends.

Basically, my question for this post is "How much of Zenos' whole deal is Nature (aka He was just born like that) and how much of it is Nuture (aka the enviornment he grew up). Some of you might content to say Nature and leave it at that, which is a completely valid outlook to have. But for me there's just one... teeny... tiny... little detail that has sent me on a wild consipriacy theory of a ride that's resulted in this post. Emet-FUCKING-Selch.

Listen to me, listen okay? I cannot, CANNOT ignore the fact that this absoulete motherfucker (affectionate) is Zenos's cannonical Great Grandfather. Who was very much alive and kicking during his childhood. Emet-Selch or Solus zos Galvus whatever moniker you wanna give the man, is an Ascian. One of THE Ascians. Not only that, he's 'The Architect" the guy who's job it is to design and engineer the calamities meant to rejoin the Shards of the World back together again. What does he do to achieve this? He builds empires, he starts wars, manipulates people and situations to result in untold elemental chaos. Iirc correctly he's responsible for causing all eight calamities that have occured so far in FFXIV. (Eight got undone but I'm still counting it).

Now for this post I'm going to be focusing mainly on the Seventh, Eighth, and Fourth Umbral Calamities. (Which are the ones coincidentally we're told the most about in game). This Calamities all involved Empires. The Allagan and the Garlean, both of which Emet-Selch was responsible for creating. From the Allagans we have the creation of Dalamud, Cyrus Tower, and the Ultima Weapon. As well as an extensive history of biological research. Cloning, Gene Splicing, Mutation and so on. (A sundered mortal's attempts at creation magjicks perhaps?) The Garleans too, have a notible history of biological research, they draw a lot of their modern technology from Allagan design. No coincidence there given Emet-Selch's involvement. But we've seen them use genetic mutation, cyber augmentation, and cloning (Emet-Selch's shadow the hedgehog ass clone bodies because he refuses to look like anyone other than his unsundered self). The also so a lot of research into the Echo. Hydalyn's mark for her champions, and soul maipulation. (Ala Mihgo Dungeon and In From the Cold Duty both points of note for examples of the Soul being manipulated here - physically torn out of the body).

"Now Gengar " - I hear you ask - "What does this have to do with Nature vs Nuture or Zenos?" Well, I tell you, everything really. Hear me out. Emet-Selch designed the Garlean Empire to be the perfect chaos causing conquest force. They have no ability to use either, making them initially vulnerable as a people to the rest of the races. Building up a tasty, tasty resentment and need to feel superior. He sent them marching to 'reclaim their home' and then to 'unify the three contents under their superior peaceful, organised leadership'. The 'Savage Races' summon evil primals and weild evil distructive magjiks. He gave them a perfect cause and reason to hate everyone else. He gave them magitech to level the field and make them supieror at combat. Garlemald as a nation is the perfect war machine. Allagan 2.0 if you would. And Zenos is the perfect 'Champion' to lead that nation into battle. To spark that next Calamity. Look at the guy. Garleans might be on the taller side (depending on the character. Cid is a shorty), but Varis and Zenos are HUGE. Emet-Selch isn't nearly as tall as either of them despite being a blood relation. Which makes me think there was some of that Allagan/Garlean/Ancient playing with genetics and form at work. Make them bigger, more durable, stronger, more intelligent.

It's like Captian America. You want the perfect solider. And a perfect solider for Emet-Selch would also need to be cold, ruthless, manipulative.

There was a post I saw a while again about Mecha Pilots. And OP pondered on the idea of physcially having your brain and body contiditoned to love battle. To love destruction and killing and fighting.

Do you see where I am going with this?

You want someone bloodthirsty enough to cause a Calamity for you, you need them to feel nothing for their fellow man. (Insects all of them. Disappointing. Found Wanting.) You need them to find such overwhelming joy in battle that no other earthely pleasure can compare to it. (Brilliant. Blinding. Trandsenant Moment.)

No attatchments. No emotions, Just violence. I offer to you dear readers, that Emet-Selch carefully modified Zenos' litterally brain chemistry. Making him predisposed to a lack of empathy and his brain releasing those pesky joyous chemicals during battle. Inflicitng and feeling pain. I offer the theory that Zenos has literally been built for combat. If you cut him open, his bones and muscles and organs would be so alienly perfect. Denser, perfectly optimised. Exceedingly perfect. His brain remapped for pattern recognistion and quick skill building, Easy to train in the art of slaughter and tactics. Unable to forge the emotional connections that would only serve to hinder him. (To isolate him from family).

What evidence to I have? Outside of Emet-Selch's known history of building Empires? Easy. I already know he's done this kind of thing before.

Vauthry. The baby Emet-Selch mutated into half a Lightwarden. Able to command the Sin Eaters and ensured would be raised into a tyranically, childish, king. To keep the First from Uniting. To ensure the Eighth Umbral Calamity would continue along it's march to completion.

Why wouldn't Emet-Selch have done as much to Zenos too?

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #zenos yae galvus #emet selch #solus zos galvus #DO YOU SEE IT?#DO YOU SEE MY VISION?#MY REVELATION?#IT'S HIS SPECIAL BOY BONE STRUCTURE GODDAMIT #It's the Frankenstien Allagory #You were *made* monsterous and alien #Body Bone and Mind #Designed to be PERFECT #but Perfect for what?#ghostly rambles

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witch-and-her-witcher · 4 months

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For @asnowfern, a gift for @acotargiftexchange! The support and positivity of your responses left me brimming with creative inspiration, so please enjoy this Nessian First Hybern War (and after) AU.

Thank you @popjunkie42-blog and @wilde-knight for your beta reading and handholding. <3

Ao3

nessian | E | marriage of convenience, first hybern war AU, angst, whump, emotional slow burn

War brings them together, a bond binds them - but is that enough for two broken people to find love with each other?

It’s impossible to tell what pulls Nesta from bed in the wee hours of the morning.

All she knows is one moment she’s curled up under the shared warmth of the comforter with her sister, the next she’s scrambling towards the door with bleary eyes and clumsy fingers shoving her too-small boots on.

Stumbling into the waking dawn.

Fighting inertia, failing and temporarily tripping into stone and dirt.

A distant booming sound echoes from somewhere behind her, indiscernible in the haze of half-awake panic.

Movemovemove

Nesta grits her teeth, ignores the gashes seeping from her knees, palms, and rises to her feet once more. Keeps running. The rocks can be cleaned out later.

The sleepy town’s outline cuts out the light from the peeking sun’s rays, instead it's the moon and stars hazily illuminating at her back. The visibility is low. The distant echo of sound is growing closer.

Fasterfasterfaster

The urgency in the pit of her stomach is leading her, the tug in her chest nearly cleaving her ribs from her flesh with the pull. Adrenaline surges. What is she doing? Where is she going? Nesta doesn’t understand what is propelling her, until —

“ — the alarm! Humans! Raise the alarm!”

The booming sound is no longer distant.

“Hybern approaches! Hybern! Ready yourselves, it’s an attack!”

As the shouting becomes clearer, so does the beacon of red light on the bell tower. The bell tower. The bell tower Nesta is running at breakneck speed to. Throwing herself onto the ladder they had placed against the crumbling brick after enemy forces had blown out the stairs within the tower during an attack the previous spring.

The red beacon is a reflection on tarnished silver.

Nesta is on the platform just as the glowing, giant-winged phantom surges beyond her. He is still shouting, raising the alarm. A great longsword glitters with the promise of violence, wielded in his massive hand.

There’s no time to take in more details. Only a hulking fae warrior, red as death’s lantern, and his gleaming tool of pain and sundering, before Nesta is focusing all her might to wrap herself bodily around the massive bell’s rope. Dropping into a squat. Sounding the alarm that rings through her, deafening.

Black dots loom on the horizon at this vantage point.

Nesta’s lungs can’t draw air.

The dots grow in mass, drawing nearer, until like some mirage they’re shifting and splitting into black shapes on the brilliance of orange hues.

Hybern.

Wicked soldiers.

Death. Death on wings.

She clamps her eyes shut against the bile that threatens to rise, the fear that threatens to freeze her muscles, and hefts the rope up and down. Up. Down. Up.

Down.

Call to arms sound throughout the village beneath her.

The last few rings of the bell, she pushes out her terror.

Beams of great red light shoot through the horizon like focused shots of flame — The Warrior. He’s taking on the swiftest of the attacking force, cutting them down like a hot knife through butter. But the numbers approaching are swarms of the hideous Hybernian creatures with their gray skin, their horrible snouts of fangs and dripping jowls. Alone. The ally Fae faces too many alone, no matter the enormity of the power he is welding between those crimson beams of light and his sword already dripping in enemy viscera.

A fist is pounding on her shoulder before Nesta drags her attention from the one warrior defense against the onslaught of a surprise attack. A slight boy, the village baker’s son, motions to take over Nesta’s position.

Right. She needs to join the forces she has assisted in training for this exact moment. The resistance she’s helped breed into a people who were ready to be conquered a year ago — until the first wave of Hybern was barely suppressed and they had their first taste of war.

Whatever the mortal slaves and freed alike had thought their lives were like under the thumb of the ruling Prythian fae, it paled in comparison to the horrors of torture, rape, and death the Hybernians delighted in.

The boy’s lips move soundlessly. There’s no clash of steel on steel.

Nesta fears she’s already dead. Watching this from out of her body.

No, no. Her bones are still shaking with the tremors of the great bell’s tolls. Temporarily deaf, that’s all.

Nesta only allows herself to look when she is turning to swing her legs over the edge of the tower, to feel with her foot deftly for the first ladder rung.

More allied winged warriors have rushed into the fray.

The one with the crimson beacons was just the tip of the spear. Behind him the might of an army swells — but can’t smother his presence. Other sparks of light dance across the sky that seems frozen in perpetual dawn now that battle has begun and time herself has frozen to the whims of life ending life.

But none shine as brightly as his.

Searing into the back of her eyelids like the intensity of the full sun.

The overwhelming force in her chest heaves.

Fightfightfight

Nesta snaps herself back into her body, bids her mind to the will of instinct. She’ll ensure Elain makes it to the church with the other non-combatants while she changes, grabs her sword, and meets her. To defend this village, her home, her sister, until either nothing remains of herself or her enemies.

#acotar gift exchange 2023 #nessian #nesta x cassian #acotar #acotar fanfic #my writing

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villainsimpqueen · 26 days

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Echos in Paradise Lost

Adam x readerx Eve

Reader is intersex

(All my fics are 18+)

Chaoter 6.

Chapter 6:

The judgment came too quickly for the humans, Yet it had been a long ordeal for the truly blessed ones.

an argument back and forth between them as their following assistants watched and only could help aid them with visuals of what had happened, to aid in the debate on what the punishment for the humans were to be as well for the traitors of heaven.

It had taken them a great while to come up with the decision, but once had been made following after the most holy ones lead of what the true father may have wanted.

It had been Michael's judgment to cast out the deceiver and fallen Lucifer out of the realms of heaven and the gardens, banishing him even from the realm of earth to somewhere far below into the unknown where Lucifer light would not shine. The traitor of heaven's wife had joined him, where to stay in that eternal darkness, Where neither will see the light again. He also had no mercy for the other created humans as he believed they too should be banished to such a place as heaven would not allow the damned to taint its unity as well the sacred Gardens of their mother who had become one with the galaxies that extended through the great beyonds above.

It had been Uriel's wisdom that influenced the other holy one's judgment to send the humans who had been tricked into sin to the new realm they had been creating. Earth.

It was her wise proposition to send the humans who had partaken in the fruit of the forbidden tree to be banished from heaven's grace and the safety of the Gardens to earth. Where they would face many trials and temptations in their remaining days and shall they resist them, they may prove that they were always loyal to heaven and at the end of their days they may be allowed to come back to their original blessed home.

As all the holy siblings bickered back and forth it was Raphael who brought up another issue that would have arrived, what to do with you.

"By our command, they were wrought into existence, fashioned to accompany Adam and Eve. As the young seraphims assembly, still pure as holy light, shall we punish them for the deeds of their partners? Do we comprehend the consequence should they be sundered from their counterparts?”

As he did not see reason for you to suffer for actions you did not commit, and what would your divine purpose be once the damned were removed from the gardens. Could a soul like yours even survive without your original purpose? His words only spurred a longer debate as others could only make assumptions, until all faces were turned to one in their union.

Azrael had leaned forward from their balcony in the court staring at the other faces of their siblings as they inhaled before exhaling wispful smoke from their lips.

"Verily, they would languish in torment, for 'tis the love betwixt Eve and Adam that binds them so. Their presence, their unyielding devotion to each other, sustains their corporeal form and tethers their souls. Yet, to cast a pure soul into a realm tainted by sin and darkness would cruelly rend its radiance asunder.” They spoke to the court smoke leaving their lips in small huffs as they placed their hands on balcony counter interlocking them as their silver white eyes glowed from the shadows of their veiled face

“Let us recall our pact: Eve, condemned for eternity for her transgression in partaking of the forbidden fruit, yet carrying within her womb a sorrowful child of heaven. And Adam, still bearing the promise of redemption to tread once more within heaven's gates.” They continued watching the faces of their siblings and even their appointed underlings, their eyes falling to one who scribed away at the meeting's contents to be stored in high security to be records of their final divine judgment. Azrael knew that their siblings, while always respectful, were wary of what they brought forth, what their divine purpose was in their fathers great work.

They brought death.

though death did not need to be cruel.

And Azreal had no ill will towards you, a being that they see to be a victim in all.

“Therefore, we must ponder: Do we dispatch Y/n to endure a protracted agony upon the earth, to wither before their beloved in anguished disarray, risking the erosion of Adam's devotion and steadfast faith? Or do we, in mercy, claim their life ourselves, sparing them the anguish of dissolution after banishing their spouses from the gardens?”

There was silence, besides the scribblings of ancient symbols on holy parchment before that too ceased in sound.

"We abstain from taking life, thus any course must tread delicately, so as not to affront the efforts of the Almighty. Having heard your deliberations, I propose a novel solution." The soft but yet firm voice of their sister metatron Spoke up her voice an echo of many as she commanded her siblings attention, her hand moving the feathered quill against the parchment she so Devotedly scribbled her words down as well of their reactions, her eyes prying key to detail.

“Let us conceal Eden from all eyes, ensconcing it in a realm of tranquil repose where Y/n's soul may find solace, shielded from the anguish of separation from their beloved.” Her words echoed through the courtroom, up the grand pillars that held it high. Her quill hand never ceasing as she took in the court guests' reactions to her words.

“There, let them slumber undisturbed, their souls unscathed by the torment of earthly parting. Permit their consciousness to wander, beholding the memories of their spouses through their eyes, so that their soul may never languish in solitude. Thus, poised betwixt life and death, their essence shall endure, harmoniously entwined, neither fading into oblivion nor sundered from existence.”

Her proposal backed by Uriel and Raphael nearly immediately and after details of how to make such a thing happen Azreal had brought forth a method to keep your soul in a soundless slumber between life and death.

A coma.

The angel of death had named it.

The holy siblings devine decisions of judgment had been made.

And young angels were sent to announce said judgment

The morning light had just started to rise when the air of the clearance of the forbidden tree was suffocated in its sudden combustion.

The noise of splintering wood and the feel of a heat of a million sourcing suns caused your eyes to fly open along with your wife and husbands.

Adam had reacted first, flying up and covering Eve's body underneath him as his golden eyes took in the blaze that consumed the forbidden trees.

The sound of batting wings came soon after

As Adam was pushed away from your and Eves bodies allowing you and your wife to scramble up to take sights of the flame engulfed tree as well the holy bright light swarming around figures concealing their faces from your eyes.

It was only the familiarity of them being the ones that created you was all you had to know what they were.

"You have defied the will of the Almighty and brought sin into this sacred place.” A voice of femininity spoke down to the three created humans, The other Angels following their lead stayed in the air above, witnesses to account the banishment and peaceful slumber was smooth and seamlessly.

The young Seraphim stared at the humans who one looked up with wide wondrously pure e/c eyes, the other two of corrupted gold.

She had taken hand at physically creating all three humans below, but she avoided looking at the one she had solely worked on alone, perhaps making his eyes.Reminding herself that he was not a child of hers, she had only made him, and he had failed heaven.

“"Disobedience hath marred the purity of this paradise. Henceforth, Eve, thou art banished from the Garden of Eden, forever estranged from its splendor and plenty, deemed a threat to the heavens, never to tread its sacred ground anew. Adam, likewise, art banished from these Gardens. May thy soul seek solace or be condemned alongside thy wife. Let the consequences of thy deeds serve as a solemn reminder of the dire ramifications of defying the Creator's decrees.”

Young Sera announced The holy one Divine Judgment that was written down and delivered to her by the Gabriel one of the younger of the holy ones for her to be bestowed the responsibility of announcing the Judgment and punishment towards the humans and to watch over to ensure the Banishment went without much resistance and that your peaceful rest would not be delayed a second after Adam and Eve's souls were casted out of the gardens.

It went as she expected it would go. and she turned her head away from the sight of the other angels forcing Adam and Eve away from you, angels holding you from running towards your spouses.

"RELEASE THY HOLD! PERMIT ME TO DEPART! ALLOW ME TO ACCOMPANY THEM! I BEG THEE, LET ME ABIDE WITH THEM! ADAM! EVE! I BESEECH THEE!” Your shrieks cut through the gardensas the other humans' screams did.

Adam fought back against the angel's much like how Sera would have thought he would, it was his purpose afterall to protect those he was married to, such a strong instinctive drive she made him have.

"Unhand them! Unhand my spouse! Grant us our beloved spouse!” Adam shouted, demanding what would have been his entire right if the holy ones had not come up with their decisions.

Sera had turned her head to sounds of your and Eves screams watching as the other angels finally managed to throw Adam off a cliff falling into a portal that would have him descend into the new realm Earth.

Your screams of pure terror left you as you tried struggling out of the other angels arms.

“ADAM!” your shrieks came with a heart shattering tone, You screamed and bucked in the angels hold as you watched them shove your wife down from the clift another shriek leaving your lips and it was as if Sera was seeing you began to unravel immediately.

“EVE!” Your high pitched scream echoed and you collapsed onto your knees a sob breaking from you quickly as your body began to tremble the hastily smoothed over seams of your flesh started to appear and began to split open making you scream more in agony as you clutched your chest screaming for Adam and Eve, your wife and your husband.

Blood seeped from you as you began to fall apart much like how it was predicted.

The angels moved quickly unveiling a blue powdery substance made by holy Azreal and blew it into your face. You choked on it, tears falling from your face before your eyes rolled back into your head, a deathless sleep coming over you. Sera let out a breath she did not know she held as she moved to you, watching the angels clean your body from the blood and smooth your skin back over your flesh to hood you together again.

They washed you clean before levitating your sleeping form up to take back to the small cave you humans had shared.

Sera had taken pity on you, gathering the fur you had covered yourself with and dusting it off before spreading it out over you like a blanket, she felt something hard in a pocket and pulled the object out seeing a seed.

Perhaps it was the empathy she had for your fate because she did not destroy the seed like they had been ordered to destroy the forbidden tree, instead she had placed it in one of your slumbering hands allowing you to hold it onto your chest.

She had stayed by your side as they moved you to your once shared home, shared caverned and laid you down in the furred bedding that still smelled of your husband and wife.

Once you were placed they all left the gardens of eden, Not one of them turning back as the Gardens vanished, the holy ones blessing to make it where no man, nor angel shall ever find it and disturb your rest taking effect immediately.

She had ignored the tears that streamed down your cheeks from closed eyes.

The first experience humans ever had on earth was a treacherous one. It had been cold, wet and surrounded by an angry storm that they were unequipped and unknowledgeable to be thrown in such conditions so quickly. Frigid cold rain pelted against their delicate skin harshly causing a sting as bitter icy winds burned past them. Adam and Eve had fallen into an area that was experiencing one of earth's firsts and many more to come hurricanes.

The wind was harsh, knocking them over causing them to fall into the mucky nature floors covering them in mud and other unknown substances. Lightning struck down harshly flashing the dark night around with a horrifying display of shadows of the unknown enough to throw them both into heuristics. Eve had kept screaming, she clung onto him tightly and Adam clung back to her Desperately as he tried to guide his wife to any form of safety.

The storm wasn't just the worst part of the night,

It was the feeling of being surrounded by Eyes.

So many eyes focused on them both, watching, judging, fueling their paranoia.

He had never felt so seen in a way that made him want to curl up and hide. A deep shame filled into his lower stomach and a nonstop dreaded feeling filled his chest on top of push aside mourning as he stumbled through the unknown lands with Eve right behind them.

He didn't even feel relief when he managed to find them both a measly shelter, a whittled down old tree with a hollow center. He had guided Eve inside of it first, letting her get into the deepest spot of the tree that managed to stay somewhat between damp and dry but kept her out of the cold unforgiving rains. He had taken the position nearest the opening having his back exposed and continued to be rained on and hit with cold bitter winds. He could only look down at his wife's face who hid into his chest, her arms clinging to his chest as she sobbed, something he wanted to do but wouldn't allow himself to.

He needed to be the strength between them, someone needed to be strong.

He couldn't allow himself to be weak, not in this unknowing yet cruel place.

when they were safe, truly safe, then he would cry.

So he squeezed his burning eyes shut and focused on his breathing, trying to ignore the harshness of the storm pelting on his back, or how his body trembled from the cold, focusing more on how Eve's body trembled against his not just from her sobs Either.

He moved his arms trying to cover her, stroking her back and arms to build heat from.his own freezing body to warm her own.

Every crackling of lightning and thunder making them both jump, small screams leaving his wife's lips as she clung to him more, he only would tighten his grasp around her tightly, each time he felt how his heart seemed to get stuck in his scratchy throat pounding, hoe his chest would heave as the palpitations of his heart grew so did his need to breathe more quickly.

He was thankful the angels had spared you from this cruelty.

Eve clung onto Adam, burying her face into his chest as she cried, he was the only thing of familiarity and comfort she had here. She did not understand how the Angels could be so cruel. As the treacherous night continued they both could hear sounds of animals stalking through the storm, she felt how stiff Her husband grew as wretched calls neared their tree. He had turned from her, his back facing her as he peered out of the hollowed tree, his eyes watching through dense thick rain and dark shadows that would be flashed with bright light by those awful crackling noises. Eve would have never seen Adam so tense, his chest heaving so quickly, between the lightning flashed she saw how his hands gripped at the hollow tree entrance, how his knuckles drained of all color of his tanned skin. Another thought had crossed her mind and her chest was frantic with pain and worry.

You had always helped Adam take part in protecting the three of them, and that the gardens never had true danger except those who loved to deceive.

Adam had known every potentially dangerous animal in the gardens and even then they understood why he needed to hunt them, they never sought out to hunt them back.

But here,

It seemed the animals siblings did indeed want to hunt them back.

Another hellish sound other than the storm echoed and about hundreds more followed after making Adam take in a sharp inhale.

"Coyotes... They search for us…” Her husband wheezed out in realization. He took steps back pushing her deeper into the hollow until her bare back dug into the harshness of the hollow bark and despite this her husband was still more exposed than she.

She shivered against his freezing backside, tears burning her eyes as they fell, she wanted to seek out for more comfort but she knew she would not receive anymore from Adam that night. Her heart burned and ached as she longed to be buried into your arms, hearing your saccharine words of sweet comfort, that your shared husband would keep her safe and that you would as well.

she could no longer have such comfort from you and she blamed the angel's for that.

When morning light came, it should have brought peace, but it didn't, as both of them felt the true need of thirst and the pains of hunger. Their throats ached for clean water, their stomachs felt as if they were tearing through their other organs to satisfy its needs. Their skin felt extremely itchy from the dried muck and mud that were on their skin. Both felt true exhaustion start to take place, heaviness in their eyes from the first night of no sleep. Their bodies were already aching as they left the whittled old tree hollow into the seeming bright day.

The earth's lands had transformed into one of horrors to one of beauty in the sunlight which had been a slap to both humans sleep deprived faces.

Both had not spoken a word to each other, Eve merely following After Adam as he lead through the unknown land, it had not taken him.long to find animal trails that lead them to a river, the sight of clean rushing waters relieved them both as they moved towards it cupping their hands into the water and bringing it to their lips over and over gulping the water greedily. Both had taken the liberties to wash their bodies with the rushing waters clearing the muck from their blemishing skin.

Eve had turned watching Adam as he washed his hair, how dark circles rung around his tired eyes, she had never seen him so worn down, not knowing that this would be a common sight of her husband for her to lay her gaze upon.

Even with having time to allow relaxation to hit them, she watched as he did not allow it to come, he immediately worked on crafting a spear and a blade, to her surprise when he handed her a carved blade of her own. She had taken it and looked up at him with wide honey eyes for the only time she ever needed a blade was when preparing a meal shared between three.

He did not comment on it.

Merely handing her the blade and moved on,The first day Adam did not speak to her much, other than simple commands

“Come, wife.” when he moved forwards into the unknown land

"Stay thou here.” when he was unsure if a certain area was safe for them both to travel together.

She did not dare complain, even when her stomach was gnawing through her, because She knew well that he was too and yet he focused on finding them somewhere safe to stay.

A place he did eventually find hours after the first strokes of morning light as the sun hit noons peak. The cave he found brought familiar comfort as Eve moved inside of it with him, her eyes taking in the bare cave that's flooring was covered in small gravely stones and dead plant matter. She moved to start cleaning away at the cave's floor,quietly as she heard Adams command of her staying here and he turned and left.

To hopefully provide them a meal

She silently prayed as she focused on her task at hand.

He had not.

Instead of rushing to find food Adam had prioritized another concern, as Eve was greeted with him dragging logs back to the cave, as well vines wrapped around from his beholder to hip.

She watched as he began to stack the logs over the caves entrance before moving vines through them, weaving had never been her husbands strongest and she moved from the caves flooring to help him weave them through, she expected some words as he never did like being corrected, she had prepared praise on her tongue for him to soothe him.

But Adam had merely stayed quiet.

Accepting her help without a word, and with all the change they had been thrown in, Eve found herself wanting to hear her husband's typical complaining at not needing her aid.

The woven structure he made closed the caves entrance, she believed it was for added protection.

Which she would have been correct as Adam did not know what may come hunting after them now that their scents were all over the forest and lands. Letting predators know of a potential new prey to hunt and feast upon.

But it was also to hide away from the eyes that plagued him.

watched him, stared at his naked body relentlessly.

Inside the enclosed cave, he finally felt as if the eyes were off of him, allowing him peace and privacy only to bombard him again when he left the cave to gather clay from a nearby creek gathering it on a large rock he could pick up and carry back, quickly as he entered the cave he felt that lingering gaze on his body leave letting him shutter as he moved to the cave floor laying the cave down and started building it upwards until he had to leave for another gathering of clay trip and soon wood. The heat of the day grew and the sun beating down on him caused sweat to form against his hairline as he moved about underneath its gaze. Yet it meant the sun was hot enough to lay wood outside of the cave for it to dry so he could light a fire to keep his wife and himself warm when the harsh heated sun fell down for the moon to dance in the sky.

By sun down, they had a new home, they had a fire pit alive with a crackling fire, He had a spear and they both had blades, a place to gather clean water to drink and wash their bodies from.

And fish.

After a long day of work He still hunted even if he felt as if his body was going to collapse.

Adam after eating the smaller fish out of the two he had caught for Eve and him to eat upon that night he moved, falling onto a bed of leaves Eve had put together.

He felt her join him moments later.

"It is but little, I do apologize.” She softly spoke to him as she laid beside him, not joining on his chest, merely beside him. He did not complain as his body ached too much to have any added weight, his heavy eyelids already fighting to stay open as he turned his head to look at her.

“Thou needest not apologize, this sufficeth.” He gravely spoke, feeling the soreness of his throat now focused on it made him dry cough and move a hand to rub at the lump that stayed there. It had not yet left him, but he hoped it would soon if he drank more water to wash it away from.his throat.

Eve had spared him.a withering smile before looking at the ceiling of the cave, silence taking over them both momentarily.

“Dost thou reckon they art safe?” Eve softly whispered, making his ears slightly rang and his chest throbbed as he was forced to acknowledge your missing presence.

He had inhaled sharply beside her.

"In paradise they dwell, Beyond mere safety they reside.” He spoke, reminding Eve at how peaceful and safe the Gardens had been. He knew you were safe as long as you stayed in those gardens. Eve had gone quiet for a few moments only speaking once his eyelids had dropped, almost allowing him sleep, almost.

"Dost thou believe they shalt replace us, as did thy former wife?” She asked, it had made him freeze his eyes open as he turned to look at her.

She watched as Adam opened his mouth to speak before it fell closed, a new kind of pain moving through his eyes. Yet he did not speak any words.

Had he not thought of such things?

tears brimmed her eyes as she took one of his hands.

"Shall they forget us once a new pair of spouses doth grace their lives?” She weakly asked him, feeling how he squeezed her hand tightly a hitched breath taken in by his lips. She saw how his eyes began to water before he squeezed the shut turning to face the ceiling. She had suddenly felt cruel for asking such as she felt a tremble of his hand form.

He had not answered right away.

"They are our spouse, woven into our very being... They... They vowed to love us until their final breaths... Nay... My echo, our beloved, would not entertain the thought of another wife... nor husband. Our love endures, unyielding.” He spoke, a sting of uncertainty in his tone and yet a whole lot of beloved faith.

It had been his faith in you that made her cry silently as a wave of relief washed over her.

"Shall we ever behold them again?” she gasped out through hitching breaths. Adam had squeezed her hand pulling it up to his lips where he pressed it against them before he turned and looked at her with merely broken golden eyes.

Yet still so faithful

“"Thou canst not fathom the lengths I would traverse to ensure our reunion. I vow to make it so, my dear Eve.” His words broke and rebuilt her heart, and Eve decided if she was ever to have faith in something it was that promise.

Adams promised for you all to be together once again.

She would face whatever was thrown their way if it meant for you all to be in each other's embraces again.

she smiled at him, moving a hand to his cheek watching how his tired eyes fluttered close at her touch.

“"I harbor no doubts thou wouldst falter in such a pursuit.” She whispered. whispered her faith into him, into his promise, into the hope of once day of being with you together again.

It had taken them months to understand the new lands, months to build a simple mockery of the home they once shared, the missing of one's presence started to take its toll on the one who didn't allow themselves to mourn.

And Eve watched the cracking of your shared husband.

He had prayed everyday, still being so hopelessly devoted to the ones that abandoned them here.

He had given offerings to prove that they were still loyal followers.

Every day, every night, every meal, Adam prayed for them both, but it wasn't the same as praying in Eden. Where the sun would grow brighter after a prayer, the stars twinkle and rocket across the sky.

Here, Prayer seemed meaningless to Eve. As each time she saw how her husband would stare up to the heavens hopefully, ever waiting for something.

Something to show that they were being heard.

Yet nothing ever showed.

Frustration came from him as he hunted better offerings, he even aided in binding them clothing from what he hunted to cover them both up entirely, modestly, even offering some of her best workings to the heavens.

Until he became unmoving.

His skin dullen with his hair and nails.

His eyes drained from the scorching light in them, if he even had energy to open them.

an illness taken over him so quickly and no matter what herbs or mixtures Eve crafted to heal Adam, none deemed to work.

At night when perhaps he thought she was not awake she could hear his shuddering breaths, muffled painful weeping that came from him.

She could only hold him tighter pretending that shenwas in deep sleep, How his trembling arm would hold her so tightly as if he feared she too would be taken away like you had to both of them.

it hurt to know that she had once before.

This sickness consumed Adam, and she grew worried for him with each passing day as he went longer and longer from waking up. Her gentle shakes had begun to turn to panicked rushed ounces, her eyes brimming with tears of relief when he would finally make a sound and open his dull ringed eyes up to her honey ounces.

She wished for something that would heal her husband, to make him strong as he once was, to rebuild the dying hope into him.

And for the first time since her banishment with Adam, she had prayed. Sitting outside of their home on her knees as she could hear the soft intakes of shaking breaths that echoed in her ears of Adams' breaths, she leaned forward placing her hands in front of her palms flat onto the ground and prayed.

Prayed to anyone that would listen.

"I beseech thee... do not sever him from my side as well... grant Adam the vigor, the radiance to recover... I implore thee, withhold not him from me... I shall do all in my power... I beg of thee…” She whispered, she repeated over and over hoping to feel something, anything that she was heard, that her pleading words would be granted.

but she felt nothing.

It started with laughs leaving her lips, before she clawed at the ground sitting up and throwing whatever was in her hands around her, she screamed at the starry heavens.

"HAVE WE NOT ENDURED ENOUGH PUNISHMENT!? WHAT DOES HEAVEN REAP FROM OUR AGONY?! WHAT MEANING LIES IN FAITH IF THOU ABANDON US SWIFTLY?! HEAVEN'S LOVE, IT IS SAID, KNOWS NO FALTERING! YET THOU HAST FORSAKEN US AT OUR FIRST ERRORS! WHY ARE WE DENIED REDEMPTION WHEN THOU THYSELF ART CONSTANTLY IN FLUX?!” She screamed, a wail breaking from her lips as she clawed at her eyes.

"Pray, I acknowledge my transgressions, the anguish I have wrought. Even if thou shalt disregard me, if I am deemed unworthy of redemption in thine eyes, do not mete out such cruelty upon him. He is steadfast in his devotion, and thy averted gaze weighs heavily upon him. Thou art draining the life from him…” She pleaded, she cried the entire night, only joining back to Adam's side in the early morning's light where she held him close to her, her trembling fingers moving through his dull and brittle hair gently.

She weeped as she buried her face in his hair, hearing rasped breaths from him.

"Oh y/n, what wouldst thou do to mend our husband? To halt this unraveling?” She muttered as her tears soaked his hair, her eyes growing heavy for sleep at once and she feared when she awoke she would truly be alone.

Yet her dreams brought her peace, she was not in the realm of earth but back in paradise at the beautiful pond which the angels had blessed her and Adam with you.

She could hear laughter and she walked closer hearing splashing of water.

Her sights took in you and Adam in the crystal waters, your delighted shrills as you fumbled around with a fish in your arms, unsure of what to do as Adam clutched his knees laughing at your attempts of fishing.

"I do not joke, aid me! Husband!” you shrieked at him only making Adam laugh at your misfortune more, the sight bringing a wide smile to her lips as she neared the waters watching how Adam finally aided you in moving the fish to the shore banks with a small pile of four.

"Is this not an excessive burden?” she asked as she saw how your precious e/c eyes snapped to her, how they brightened with so much love and affection as you scrambled out of the waters to engulf her in your arms adoringly.

"My beloved wife, it is simply too much! Why dost thou walk in thy condition? It shall exhaust thee so. Permit me to carry thee back.” your tender loving words had shooker her and she pulled from you in confusion.

"Art I truly well?” She questioned hearing your soft giggles, Adam soon by your side his bright eyes burning strongly as he looked at her, concern forming on his face for a moment before a grin forming.

"Speak not so lightly, my beloved wife. Allow them to attend to thee. Our cherished spouse is filled with nothing but the purest joy at the prospect of the little one thou shalt bring unto us.” Adam spoke to her gentle words with a firmness she didn't quite understand.

little one?

Her hands moved against her own self aware thoughts to rest upon her stomach, which was slightly swollen. Shock seemed to burn through her distracting her as your arms moved under her knees around her back before she was picked up and pulled flush against your chest.

"Art thou hungry, my sweet wife? I shall gather thy favorite fruits.” You spoke to her as you walked down the familiar path to their beloved home the three of you shared, their true home.

“I…” Eve could not speak, her eyes falling over your shoulder to see Adam, a look of concern on his face, a look of pleading, to follow, to not question.

She broke their eye contact turning to look at you seeing how concern filled your eyes for a moment, how the world around you both started to seem as if it was fading.

“Yes! “ She spoke in a rush breathing thickly as she watched the world brighten and sharpen it its detail and color, she watched how your face changed to one of happiness*

You had placed her down on a thick fur mat during the fire, your hands moving into a bowl of cherries working on pushing a blade through them to remove the pits. Adam on the other side of the fire roasting the fish you both had caught. You and his chatter echoing over the fire and around the cave.

She watched you both.

Her hands rested on her stomach.

how it seemed to be real.

The fish had been heavenly, and the cherries sweeter than they ever had been on her tongue.

Everything seemed so perfect. blissful.

Your smiles had been bright, your words lovingly and tender as always.

Yet she felt pain, Eve still felt pain in this paradise…because she knew..

it could not be real.

She and Adam were banished.

You had been taken from them and them from you.

and Adan was slowly dying beside her.

Her thoughts had darken but she felt a hand on hers making her look up into bright e/c eyes, a soft sadden smile on your lips as you moved forward kissing her forehead so tenderly and softly.

"Thou must awaken now. Thou must seek sustenance for thyself and the little one.” you spoke so softly to her making her look at you in bewilderment, her eyes flicking over to Adam who seemed busy on doing something at the moment.

she felt your soft fingers against her cheek making her look at you.

"He shall press onward. Our beloved husband is resilient; this illness shall not claim him, my sweet wife. Thou shalt witness it soon, but thou must awaken.”

Your words drifted around her and the world was fading, she had desperately tried grasping onto you.

“Wait…” she gasped, feeling your hands slip from hers once again.

“Awaken.” Your words had echo.

Eve woken sharply sitting up breathing heavily, sweat pooling around her skin as she heaved, her hand moving to touch Adam's arm for comfort only meeting furrs instead. She turned, finding the furrs empty and a spout of worry formed in her soul as she scrambled up from the furrs moving to the cave entrance, shoving the thick logged door away.

“ADAM!?” She screamed in panic , filling her. She nearly screamed for him again until arms wrapped from behind her.

“I am here, beloved wife.” His words brought a tremendous comfort and a wave of relief as she turned to look up into his dull eyes, the rings around them seeming to forever stay there, but he looked at her softly.

She had so many questions and yet when she thought of them, she couldn't remember what she was going to ask. She only knew she had an experience unlike any other, she looked back into his eyes wilder on her own. She only felt his fingers find her chin tipping her face down so his lips pressed against her forehead. A sense of familiarity hit her even if she did not know why but she looked up at Adam as he pulled away a soft smile on his lips.

"All shall be well, my sun.” He assured her confidently, in such a way that was like his old self, that she could not have any other beliefs other than that everything will be well. She smiled at him as he led her back to the cave after she followed him to where he was skinning and cleaning rabbits. She watched as he shooed her away from taking over to cook the meat, watching how he stabbed the rabbit's flesh on sharpened skewers he had made and rested them over the fire pit he had built for them to roast the meat himself.

It was a tender feeling that took her as she watched Adam cook for her, a warmth filling her heart as she watched him lovingly.

Her hand unconsciously fell on her stomach as she focused on him.

His golden eyes finding her, dilling to her hand before looking at her bright honey eyes, he did not know why that sight was suddenly so important to him or why his head was filled with tender loving words of your voice, he just knew that for the first time in so many months he awoken feeling at peace, when he saw Eves tried and worried sleeping face he wanted to wash away her worries, that he felt as if they continue something tragic would happen that would make it feel as if everything is lost. So he had gotten up, washed himself from the creek and drank a fill of water before he hunted feeling light.

Feeling hopeful.

His catch was successful and he watched Eve eat the roasted meat with a sense of pride filling his chest as he ate his own much smaller portion.

And as the months continued with Adam's speedy recovery of such an illness, A new discovery made way to both his and Eve's knowledge, and Eve watched at how Adam took her in with so much pride and hope. Even as he returned from a hunt and fell to his knees in front of her his hands wiped clean on his robes she made from the leather and hide of animals to rest on her swollen stomach. scorching eyes looking at her in utter devotion as he placed his lips against her robed stomach.

His wife was creating new life.

Life that would be of you.

He pulled away a grin on his face as he looked up at Eve lovingly.

"I am so proud of thee, my beloved wife. Thou hast bestowed upon me great blessings.” He so adoringly spoke to her, making her heart warm.

No matter the outcome, love them as if they are mine own, As thine own, and thou shalt always feel my love beside thee.”

your words had echoed in his head.

chp 7

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